


Dominion

by Anonymous



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Parent/Child Incest, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28441992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It took a team of demons to prepare and dress Sabrina in her coronation outfit but when the celebrations are over, only Lucifer is waiting to strip it from her.
Relationships: The Dark Lord | Satan/Sabrina Spellman
Comments: 25
Kudos: 134
Collections: Anonymous





	Dominion

**Author's Note:**

> Let's end this terrible year with terrible smut.

The coronation ceremony is short, or at least, passes in a haze that makes it feel so, but the celebrations last forever.

Every time Sabrina thinks they're over someone else raises a glass, offers a groveling toast, begs another dance. The excitement wears away to exhaustion she can't let herself show so she keeps agreeing, keeps dancing and accepting fealties and dismissing pointed remarks, determinedly ignoring how rowdy the crowds become, teetering on the edge of either an orgy or a brawl, possibly both.

Lilith takes pity on her eventually, sends a gaggle of handmaidens to escort her out before her painted face can betray her and blush as she tries to hold a conversation without acknowledging the demon crawling under the lady's skirt.

The walk is long and gives her face time to cool, but that doesn't stop the laughter and she orders them away at the door.

It took a team of demons to prepare and dress Sabrina in her coronation outfit but when she steps exhausted into her new quarters, only Lucifer is waiting to strip it from her.

He does it by hand as she demands to know what He's doing, why He's there, what He wants.

"Surely it's obvious, my queen," He says, and she sways as the address hits her like a physical blow. Somehow it hadn't quite connected before that becoming the Queen of Hell also meant becoming Lucifer's.

"Didn't think about that, did you?" He murmurs, smiling with all His teeth and no softness in His eyes. "I am not imprisoned now, my daughter. We will rule together."

He smears the paint across her lips with His thumb as she stares up at Him, folding her arms across her chest and hoping it comes across as unimpressed rather than defensive as He kicks away the voluminous skirts pooled at her feet without looking at them.

"Lucifer—"

"I thought we had this discussion? In private you can call me something else."

"Like--" _Hell_ she almost says before she remembers where she is. She snaps her mouth shut, glaring at Him. "I'm tired," she says, trying to be haughty, trying to imply He's not worth her time, she has better things to do.

"And yet there is one more rite to fulfill," He says, and a gesture of His hand rends the shift she is wearing, leaving her scrambling to try and cover herself with what remains in her grasp. "Did you really think you could seat yourself upon my throne, crown yourself with my name, and expect there to be no consummation?"

"Lucifer!"

"You know the name I want to hear in this room," He says, and her eyes can't help darting to the large bed she was ready to collapse on the second she finally managed to escape her escorts and stumble inside, only to stop short at the sight of Him waiting for her.

"I could have claimed my rights to you the moment the crown was set upon your lovely head," He murmurs, winding her hair around His fingers. "Shed your maiden's blood upon our newly shared throne before all the watching lords and ladies of Hell…"

Her heart speeds up – with anger at the suggested humiliation, she assures herself, and disgust, obviously – but her father's, _Lucifer's_ gaze is knowing, as if He can read something in her heated cheeks she won't admit.

"But I thought with your sometimes bizarrely prudish sensibilities – wherever did you manage to pick that shame up, my dear, raised among witches? – you might prefer privacy this first time."

"It's not prudishness not to want _my father_ to – to have sex with me in public!"

"Oh? You'd let that boy of yours, would you?"

"No! That's not--"

"Good, because I don't think I'm willing to share. You chose this, Sabrina," He reminds her when she opens her mouth to protest. "Every step of the way. To become Queen of Hell was your choice and if you told yourself this wasn't how it would end you were lying and have only yourself to blame for believing it."

Because it turned out half of her wants power more than the unbalanced life of a half-witch in a small town, because her pride made her think she could bear the cost, because she is her father's daughter in every sense, and too willing to claim the advantages without thinking of the pitfalls.

Her skin prickles despite the heat of the room as He steps back and surveys her, standing in what remains of her shift, fingers tightly clenched holding scraps of fabric to her chest and waist. He has left the heavy earrings and even heavier necklace, the heels that mean He looms over her rather than towers, and the adornments only make her feel even more exposed. "My virgin queen," Lucifer says, eyes glittering, and her breath leaves her in a rush to realize that as anachronistic as Hell is the style of her coronation gown was still a joke at her expense, however seriously everyone took it.

She lets the useless scraps drop and keeps her head high, refusing to let Him think that she might be ashamed or afraid. He laughs, but His eyes are also bright with appreciation that makes her swallow down something like satisfaction.

"Fear not," He says, amusement creeping in to warm His words at last. "I of all people know what I'm doing when it comes to the pleasures of the flesh."

"I'll bet," Sabrina says acidly before she can think better of it, and Lucifer's grin is disarmingly boyish as He shrugs away His jacket. Her mouth goes dry as He strips without care or pretension, eyes on her the entire time. Her stomach roils, but it's not with the revulsion she would feel if He were Edward Spellman and she hates herself a little for that.

"Come here," He says lowly, and she takes a step towards Him before she can even think. "Give Daddy a kiss."

"I'm not calling you that," Sabrina says firmly.

"You will if you want to come," Lucifer says, crossing the short distance between them and leaning down to kiss her cheek, a parody of parental affection that quickly dissipates when He kisses her again and again, moving closer and closer to her lips until she has to step up or step away.

She nips His mouth as it seeks to open hers, catches His lower lip between her teeth and bites down hard enough His blood sets her tongue alight, buzzing with power. He groans, but not with pain.

"Oh yes, good girl," He murmurs, and she pretends it doesn't open a squirming box of something confused and awful in her thoughts as His hands slide up her legs, pushing them apart as He kneels on the remnants of her discarded coronation dress and leans in to kiss her inner thighs, warm and wet.

"Still not going to," she says, rather than the smart remark about pride and kneeling His eyes are challenging her to make.

"We'll see," Lucifer says, forked tongue darting across her clit, there and gone so fast her startled yelp dies in her throat before her hips finish bucking. "When it gets too much just beg for Daddy."

"I won't," she says, sinking her nails into His shoulders, pretending it doesn't bother her how easily His hands span her thighs, keeping them apart no matter how she strains to close them.

He offers a hummed noise of amused acknowledgment, sucking bright marks of ownership meant to be felt more than seen, although Sabrina doesn't doubt that Lucifer has a mirror somewhere He'd like to watch her examine them in. Or fuck her against.

"Well, well," He purrs, and she jolts as He buries His tongue between her suddenly wet folds, slapping a hand across her mouth to muffle her gasp even as she feels His mocking smile like a brand. It's just a physiological reaction, she tells herself. It doesn't mean anything.

His tongue is human when it laps in broad strokes, forked when it slides inside her, drinking deep but frustratingly delicate before retreating to tease her clit. The room is too hot, makes her sweat, makes her feel light-headed –

He pulls away, evidence of her pleasure smeared across His face as He looks up at her with laughing eyes.

"Now just what were you imagining, Sabrina? Let Daddy make it come true."

"Nothing," she pants, sweat gone cold with the sudden rushing return of knowledge – who she is, who He is, what they're doing. What they're going to do.

"The sheer arrogance of you, Sabrina Morningstar, to try and lie to the Father of Lies!" He sounds delighted, and something in Sabrina preens with satisfaction anyway – _yes, look at me, Dark Lord, the half-mortal worthy of all your praise_. He lowers His head once more as if to reward her for that so-called arrogance and she can't smother her cry fast enough, feels herself flush all over at the sound of her moan, shockingly loud in the vast room. It's not embarrassment that makes her skin feel hot, her teeth sink into her lower lip, and she knows He's well aware of that.

He has lit a fire in her that only His tongue seems to soothe and she twists her hands into His hair without really noticing, just determined to keep His mouth on her. Her legs start to tremble and He pulls away, looking up at her with a grin as she snarls with frustration.

She feels molten between her legs and tense everywhere else, muscles winding tight, waiting for a wave to crest that just won't arrive. Her breath rasps, almost a sob as Lucifer tastes her again, slowly and thoroughly, methodically forcing her body to ascend again.

"Let me – just let me--" Sabrina's groan turns to a frustrated scream as He slips away from her again, making a noise low in His throat as He watches her pant and struggle to regain control of herself. 

"You know what I want. Give it to me, and I'll give both of us what you want."

"Dream on," she gasps, and He laughs.

"You have no idea of the shape of my dreams, daughter. But I might be willing to share a few if you ask – very – very – nicely."

There's no stifling any noise any more, all of Sabrina's focus given over to trying to reach the peak He denies her before He can stop her, or, when that doesn't work, steeling herself for the moment He sends her crashing down again.

That doesn’t work either.

"Please, please, please--"

Lucifer turns His head, murmurs something into her thigh before biting, a flash of pain that only brings the lessening pleasure into clearer relief, and she wrenches at His curls trying to drag His mouth back.

"Harder," He laughs, goads her with wild, delighted eyes. "Take command of all your pleasure, Sabrina! You are Queen – you want it, _take_ it. Say the word and it's all yours."

"Daddy! Daddy please—"

He makes a noise of triumph Sabrina is pretty sure she'll be hearing in her dreams, the sort that leave her wet and aching to be satisfied, and devours her. She doesn't scream, but only because she is robbed of her voice entirely, eyes closing as pleasure sweeps it all away.

Her knees buckle but His grip is like iron, holding her carefully balanced just long enough for one parting lick before He stands and pulls her pliant body towards the bed, seating her on its edge with legs spread to let Him nestle between them, willingly kneeling on the stone floor as if He hadn't been cast from Heaven for refusing to bow His head.

Her chest heaves, breath escaping in ragged gasps as His fingers probe then penetrate, sliding inside one digit at a time as His thumb presses and rubs slickly above.

"I don't think you're aware enough to know this," Lucifer murmurs, and His fingers _twist_ , sinking even deeper inside. Sabrina feels more than hears herself cry out. "But you are _dripping_ , Sabrina. You're so wet it soaks my palm, runs down to my wrist in little rivulets."

He leans forward, breath a sudden warm gust against her throbbing flesh, enough to make her tense with anticipation, even worked to distraction beneath His hand, but He only licks briefly at His wrist instead, humming appreciatively.

"Come, little Queen, command your servant – how will it please you best to take me?"

"Stop – stop," she says, and is more surprised than anything when He does, the lack of movement only making her more aware of how much His fingers fill her, how solid they are, how much deeper she wants them to go. She squirms uncomfortably, rocks her hips to simulate His previous movements, but it isn’t quite the same. It feels good, but it isn't enough –

_Let no man have power over you,_ Lilith said, but the Dark Lord already owns her soul by her blood and name in the Book of the Beast and she is a Morningstar raised to follow the path He set out long ago. She bites her lip and finds Him watching her, unblinking, hunger written across His face and held back by her word. Suddenly she has never felt more powerful.

It must be how He tricks so many into signing away their soul, she thinks as she pulls herself reluctantly off His fingers and tugs Him up to join her on the bed – by making them think He is giving them enough power to thwart Him when the time comes to pay when really He is only opening the door and ushering them into a prison of their own arrogance.

It's obviously a good trick. It works.

She hesitates, straddling His hips, rocking against the blunt heavy flesh pressing against but not into her – not yet, not yet – and the pause is enough to stir the remnants of her mortal side, shame and guilt and embarrassment and nothing the Queen of Hell needs but Sabrina can't help feeling anyway.

"There's no sainthood for being martyred on my cock, Sabrina. Save the performative shame for someone who isn't wearing the proof of your pleasure all over their face."

"Asshole," Sabrina snarls, sinking down too fast and sudden and wincing at the stretch and burn, furious tears springing into her eyes that He wipes away with fingers still tacky with her own juices.

"An excellent suggestion but let's not get ahead of ourselves."

He thrusts up to meet her and she claws at His shoulders, reveling as much in the streaks of red as the new sensation of being filled. More, perhaps, because as wet as she is it still feels like too much to take too soon and there’s no pain for her in the blood under her nails.

He growls and suddenly Sabrina remembers the Beast at her back, telling her to burn down her school, and can recognize it in Him. Her breath hitches – and she digs her fingers in again, harder. This time she recognizes the noise as one of pleasure.

Newly confident, she pushes up from her knees and sinks down, driving herself onto Him, gasping, and finds the movement easier than before. Of course it doesn’t hurt – she's wet and wanting – of course He fits – anything that can stretch enough to deliver a baby can take a cock... but that's the wrong thought to have. It makes her falter, brings a crushing wave of horrified shame that demands to know what exactly she's doing, riding her own father and panting like a bitch in heat.

(What if – there's nothing stopping him--)

Lucifer clicks His tongue irritably. "I can smell your shame, daughter," He says, digging His fingers into her thighs hard enough to make her yelp. "It would sweeten things were you anyone else, but you are a Morningstar, what is shame to you?"

"Nothing," Sabrina croaks, trying to believe it. "Nothing – ah –"

"Nothing that makes you feel lesser is permitted here, in this moment," Lucifer murmurs, closing His mouth on the tip of one breast, pulling on it lightly until she squirms. He draws away slightly to kiss affectionately where He had been suckling. "You think I would take an unworthy queen? You are a witch raised by witches of the Path of Night, you are the Queen of Hell. Who is anyone to deny you taking what you desire?"

"No one," Sabrina says, and ducks her head, hesitating only a moment before pressing her lips to His fiercely. It feels strangely like crossing one last, final threshold between her mortal life and her new, and she straightens up and feels, finally, reborn.

Let Sabrina Spellman keep the shame of sex, the embarrassment a mortal upbringing managed to instill despite her aunts' best efforts. Let Sabrina Spellman stifle her own power and wonder about her place as a witch, hold herself back from pleasure and doubt her readiness and her partner.

Sabrina Morningstar can have whatever she wants. That is what she chose, after all – power, her father, all the trappings of Hell but all the freedoms too.

And right now –

"Fuck me," she tells her father, and laughs breathlessly as He obeys, throwing her head back and taking Him as hard and deep as she can, crying out with satisfaction.

"That's it," Lucifer croons, marking her breasts and throat with His teeth, one hand slipping down where their bodies join to give the stimulation on her clit that grinding against Him is too fleeting to provide, coaxing the fire coiled low in her belly to rise up into something voracious and unstoppable. "You should see yourself, Sabrina-- oh," He says, delighted, when her entire body shudders, "that's what you want, is it? To be able to watch yourself taking Daddy's cock? Because you do it so _well_ , you're magnificent. Of course you should admire yourself."

Her mouth opens to tell Him she's not cut from that particular piece of His cloth but all that leaves her is a moan. She doesn't know where her climax begins or ends, it seems to come in endless waves, leaving her limp when every attempt to end the overstimulation fails and all she can do is cling on, pressing her slight weight down on Him as hard as she can as if it could possibly still His movements.

She knows what will though, licking dry lips and gasping _daddy_ in His ear between groans that feel torn from somewhere deep inside her, and it's her turn to watch Him fall apart. It's more satisfying than she could ever have imagined, staring the Dark Lord down as He told her she was not a Spellman at all. That half of her would flinch at His kiss, would feel disgusted by the throbbing of His flesh as He releases inside her. She accepts it with a smile as triumphant as His.

Sabrina has so much to learn and she knows Lucifer thinks this is all He needs to teach her, but He's wrong. He's made her a Queen, of course she's going to rule.


End file.
